


A Man’s Ego Deserves To Be Patted At Times

by ufp13



Series: Married in Vegas [4]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-25
Updated: 2014-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:20:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2357663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ufp13/pseuds/ufp13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn't like people staring at his wife as if she was a piece of meat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Man’s Ego Deserves To Be Patted At Times

**Author's Note:**

> Not my sandbox, just playing in it.

Catherine always dressed well, but whenever she attended a party or a gala, she took extra care, added some (more) glamour and polish to her look.

Letting his eyes trail over her body as she stood at the bar, talking to some important man in a monkey suit, he had to admit that she looked absolutely stunning and sinful in the long blood-red dress that accentuated her curves, teased with its neckline (at the end of last week she had strongly forbidden him to leave any hickeys on her neck and chest until after the gala), the not really small but tasteful diamond earrings and necklace (apparently, if you had money, it was expected to show it off at such occasions) and the high-heels that made her stand tall. She would call him biased, but in his opinion, she was the most beautiful woman in this room. And obviously, he wasn’t the only one thinking so.

The man who came to stand next to him, sipping from the champagne glass he was holding, nodded at him before following his line of vision.

“That one’s hot,” he remarked. “And very rich, too, from what I’ve heard.”

The tone of voice the man used as he was ogling Catherine as if she was nothing more than a juicy piece of meat made his blood boil. 

“I really need to get my hands on her number,” the champagne guy continued, almost drooling. “She sure looks like fun for a night or maybe even two.”

How dare this jerk talk about this woman – hell, any woman, but particularly this woman, his woman – like that? Yes, her looks sure didn’t hurt the eye, but her mind was even more attractive. It was what had gotten her her career, her reputation in the forensic field, was what allowed her to do the job she was doing now successfully.

The urge to strangle the man or at least to break his jaw increased by the second. He wasn’t a violent man by nature, but people like this challenged even his peacefulness. In order to keep his calm and not enrage the woman with caveman like behaviour that might lead him to spend the night in a holding cell, he tuned out the man’s rambling about what he’d like to do to and with the sexy strawberry blonde.

Eventually and elbow to his arm pulled him out of his reverie. “So, what were you dreaming about doing to her just now? Not that she’d give a guy like you the time of the day. No offense, Mr. – Grissom, isn’t it?”

“It is, and none taken.” He didn’t feel like continuing any conversation whatsoever with this highly annoying person so he kept the information to a minimum, not sure what would blow him off and what would further capture his curiosity.

At that moment, the object of his fantasy took the glass the bartender had put in front of her and started to walk in their direction.

“She’s coming over, man. She’s coming over. Boy, I can’t believe my luck.” Champagne guy, who still hadn’t seen it fit to introduce himself even after confirming his name, could barely contain his excitement, was short of bouncing like a freshly energized Duracell bunny.

When the beauty neared them, the guy blocked her path by taking a step forward, stuck his hand out.

“Fritz Petrella, it’s such a pleasure to meet you here...” Obviously, this hadn’t been his first glass of champagne.

“Catherine Grissom.” She courtly introduced herself before sidestepping him and handing the glass to her husband – not without taking a sip first, though. “Here you go, darling,” she said sweetly, adding a kiss to his cheek at the end of the statement.

What the hell was this all about? She hardly ever introduced herself with his name, at least not around business partners. Something they had agreed upon to keep confusion and more importantly unwanted questions and rumours at bay. And PDA was also not their normal MO. However, it seemed to have the effect he had desired to achieve ever since the guy had first started speaking to him. Petrella stared at her, at them, at him open-mouthed for some moments before excusing himself, stumbling over the words, and vanishing into the crowd.

“Uhm, Cath? Not that I mind him leaving, but what was this about? I didn’t ask for a drink, even though it’s a good one. And as much as I love hearing you use my name, why now?” He looked at her with confusion written on his face.

“The look.”

“The look? What look?”

“The look you always get when some other man is ogling me shamelessly, the look that says ‘stop undressing my wife with your eyes’, the look that means you’re just a second away from committing a felony.”

“I have no such look!”

“Yes, you do.” She pressed a short kiss onto his lips. “Face it, Gil. Even the quiet bugman has a possessive streak. And let me tell you, your wife loves it. At least most of the time.”

“She does?”

“Yep.”

“Does it turn her on?”

She feigned shock and outrage for a second before answering, “Yep.”

“Let’s get out of here?”

“Yep.”

= End =


End file.
